


Shiver

by Skylark, Swiftling (Skylark)



Series: SASO 2015 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV Second Person, Present Tense, Realization, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/pseuds/Skylark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/pseuds/Swiftling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been friends since middle school, and it's hard for you to imagine finding something new about him. You think about it for a while, trying to puzzle the meaning out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> [prompt:](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/4049.html?thread=328913#cmt328913) "you and i both know we were never ‘just friends’,  
>  there was nothing platonic about the way my hands would shake for days after you’d touched them." – he.

"Well, see you later," Kuroo says.  
  
"See you!" you reply.  
  
The sight of his retreating back, his eternally ruffled hair, his shoulders swaying in counterpoint to his lazy stride—all of that is familiar to you. Familiar, too, is the impulse that rises in your throat to call out to him, to find some excuse to make him stay.  
  
So you don't think anything of it.  
  
Later at night when you're lying in bed, you think there might have been some new tone in his voice, something reluctant. You know the tone of his voice that means "let's get in trouble," the one that says "something's worrying me," and the one that says "can I stay over." This wasn't any of those, and you can't place its subtext.  
  
You've been friends since middle school, and it's hard for you to imagine finding something new about him. You think about it for a while, trying to puzzle the meaning out of it, but you're tired. You practiced spikes with Kuroo for hours, until both your hands were raw and your eyes were stinging from sweat. Exhaustion pulls at you like gravity.   
  
The next time you open your eyes it's morning, and the earlier question is forgotten.  
  
\--  
  
You get lost in thought a lot. There's a lot to think about; new school year, new teammates, new homeroom class, new volleyball techniques. Half the time this happens you end up outside Nekoma's front gates.  
  
Kuroo is never surprised by it. When he smirks at you, you grin back. Kenma's at his side like a loyal shadow and rolls his eyes when he sees you.  
  
"Come on," you say. "Just an hour."  
  
"You always say that," Kenma says.   
  
"One hour!" you say. "Just an hour and then drinks are on me, how about that? Come on, Kenma, set for me."  
  
Kenma looks at Kuroo, who gives him a shrug;  _You know we'll end up doing it anyway._  Kenma gives a little huff, stirring his long bangs, but when Kuroo walks towards you he follows in his wake.  
  
\--  
  
"I'm going home," Kenma grumbles.  
  
You're bent in half with your hands braced on your knees, gasping for air. Across the net Kuroo's slouched forward too, echoing your own posture.  
  
"What time is it?" you ask.  
  
"It's almost eight," Kuroo says, gesturing at the clock.  
  
You glance out the windows; "Oh hey, it's dark outside!"   
  
Kuroo gives a disbelieving huff, and Kenma starts moving towards the locker room.  
  
"No, come on," you say. "I said I'd treat you to drinks after. Let me make it up to you."  
  
Kenma shakes his head. "I'm  _going home,_ " he says, and then gives Kuroo an expectant look. Kuroo meets it, then glances at you. You nod; yeah, you know, they always walk home together. It's a thing. You're not really bothered by it.  
  
After the three of you are done gathering your things and cleaning the gym, you give Kuroo a one-armed hug, the smell of sweat familiar. "See you later," you say, but your voice sounds weird. It catches your attention.  
  
"Yeah," Kuroo says, clapping you on the back.  
  
"I'll text you later!" you call after him.  
  
On the way home you realize your voice had matched Kuroo's when he was leaving the day before. You frown, scratching behind your ear, recalling the flare of nerves, the way it felt like something was twisting in your chest. When you draped an arm across Kuroo's shoulders you felt your skin light up with his heat. It wasn't like the jitters you get before a game or on a test. It felt as powerful as the swamping gloom you feel sometimes, sure, but not _sad_  like that is, at least not entirely.  
  
Your hands are bright red and tingling from exertion. The whole way home, you watch them tremble.  
  
\--  
  
You avoid touching him for a while after that.  
  
You're not surprised that Kuroo notices. You can't get much past him—spikes or secrets. He corners you about it finally, leaning on the wall beside you while you scrounge for loose change.  
  
"Nothing," you say. Your hands twitch and shove themselves into your pockets, finding lint, bits of paper, but not what you're looking for. "I mean it!" you insist, and Kuroo just  _looks_  at you.  
  
"Spit it out," he says. "You get depressed if you keep stuff in for too long." His eyes cut away. "I don't like seeing you like that."  
  
"Do you have any change?" you ask him, desperate to switch topics. He offers it to you like he was waiting for you to ask, a collection of coins in the center of his upturned palm. Just the thought of brushing your fingertips against his makes a shiver run through you.   
  
Kuroo's expression flattens, as if you've just confirmed something. "It's me, isn't it?"  
  
"No! I mean..." Your hand lifts to pull at the muscles in your shoulder, your nails biting your skin through your button-down shirt. "It sounds stupid," you say. "Don't laugh."  
  
Kuroo makes a face at you.   
  
"...Touching you makes me f-feel weird."  
  
His face drops, and so does your stomach.  
  
"Weird how?" he asks cautiously.  
  
"I don't know!" you burst out, and Kuroo reaches for you immediately, places a hand on your shoulder to steady you.   
  
Your body reacts on instinct, the same as leaping for a block or swinging for a spike, some long-hidden muscle memory. You turn into the embrace, clench your fists in his blazer, and  _shake._    
  
Kuroo doesn't stiffen or hesitate, just reads you and moves to respond. His arms go around you, gentle but not confining, a warm weight against your sides and back. "I've got you," he says. "I get it."  
  
He holds you like that for a long time.  
  
"Is it okay?" you stammer at last.  
  
Kuroo snorts. "More than okay," he says. "I never wanted us to be 'just friends,' anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 user Skytramp remixed this piece into a poem [here](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/6833.html?thread=2446257#cmt2446257).


End file.
